


If I Could Pray For Change

by gaytectives



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Episode: The Abominable Bride, M/M, Post Special Preview, Victorian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 14:26:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4308606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaytectives/pseuds/gaytectives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Holmes,” he murmurs, voice choked. “You know you mustn't.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Could Pray For Change

**Author's Note:**

> post christmas special preview because im FUCKED UP

When the door to the flat finally shuts with a satisfying click, John lets out a heavy sigh and his fingers brush the lock hesitantly. Bolting the door seems like an indicator to secrecy, but leaving it open for anyone to come through feels like a beckoning for disaster. He can hear Holmes drawing the curtains across the room, the shadow falling drearily upon his feet, and wonders whether they should let the world see in and imagine their lives are normal, or shut them out and keep themselves safe.

He never did imagine that in his life he would be so dreading the return to his own home, but as he slowly and silently locks the door, he wishes that he could take Holmes by the hand and drag him back to the countryside, and to a relative safety. The pit of his empty stomach turns and every beat of his heart is full of disquiet.

“You don’t suppose she knew?” Holmes asks. The tone of his voice is barely above a whisper and John aches to remember the same soft tone just days ago against the crest of his ear.

“A beldam such as Mrs. Hudson would never catch wise,” John insists, almost more to himself than his partner. He can imagine in the back of his head how they must look, whispering to the opposite walls of the room rather than each other.

Holmes’ feel shuffle against the wood floors behind him and he holds his breath. “With the way we disappeared after the trial, I fear… the worst,” Holmes whispers. John turns in slight to gaze over his shoulder. The concern and distress of his partner’s demeanour raises alarm in his core. If someone as steadfast and sure of himself as Holmes believes the worst… But surely, it must be pure human fear.

“She seemed pleased to see us, did she not?” John asks. “She seemed completely unknowledgeable.”

“In such close quarters, she could have heard everything.”

John swallows, his throat tight and dry, and he turns his head back to the door. “I haven’t a clue what you mean,” he mutters, stepping back from the doorway.

The scuff of Holmes’ shoes against the floor grows closer and John can feel the man’s warmth against his back, far closer than before. Holmes’ hand brushes against the small of John’s back and John shakes his head, eyes watering.

“Holmes,” he murmurs, voice choked. “You know you mustn't.”

The kind affection continues nonetheless, Holmes’ thumb pressing firmly but gently against John’s back, sending warmth throughout his body. A hot tear rolls down John’s cheek and he reaches up wordlessly to wipe it away. “Holmes, please,” he whispers.

“John,” Holmes whispers, “John, I - I don’t know how much longer I can live in this fashion.” There are tears in his voice as well, and John can’t stand it. He turns, looking up at Holmes, whose eyes are rimmed with red and whose cheeks are glistening with tears. He reaches up, cupping Holmes’ cheek gently.

“Sherlock, love,” he murmurs, sniffling. “Please, don’t say such a thing.”

“We should not have returned home,” Sherlock murmurs. “We _never_ should have come back.”

“Please,” John repeats. He takes Holmes’ hand and pulls him gently, walking them to and through the kitchen to his partner’s quarters. He shuts the door softly and draws the curtains, throwing the bedroom into darkness. The bedsprings creak and John knows Sherlock has sat on the bed, so he leads himself through the familiar dark to sit beside his partner.

“We have no choice, love,” John says, searching for Holmes’ hand through the black. His fingers graze Holmes’ cold digits and they twine their hands instinctively. “I understand, you know I do.”

“I am in constant pain,” Sherlock says, his voice breaking. “For both the fear of being caught and the agony of keeping this private.” The bed shakes with Holmes’ gentle sob and John cannot help himself but to move closer and pull his partner to him. Holmes’ free arm wraps around his back and he buries his face in John’s neck. John hugs him tightly, pressing his face to Holmes’ temple.

“I’m so sorry, my love,” John whispers shakily. “If I could beg God for one thing alone, I would beg that he let us be together without consequence.”

He pulls back in slight and lifts Holmes’ head by the chin. He presses a kiss to Holmes’ cheek, his lips lingering, before he dips and kisses him wholly, their noses bumping clumsily in the dark, lips careful and frantic altogether. Even in the safety of the unlit room, anxiety rises in John’s chest, but he pushes it down for this moment; the comfort found in their gentle embrace. The knowledge that no matter what the law says, there is nothing that could ever deter John from the kiss of his partner and the love they keep closeted.

Sherlock sniffles and ducks his head, kissing John’s neck. The fear in John’s core overwhelms him and he leans away.

“You know we can’t, Sherlock,” he whispers. “Not here, love.”

“Just the once,” Sherlock begs softly. His hand squeezes John’s and John’s heart throbs sadly, submissively.

“Just the once?” he echoes.

“And never again, unless we know that it’s safe.”

“It will never be safe,” John whispers.

“One day,” Sherlock says. “One day, my dear.”

John hesitates before nodding, and then repeats, “Just the once.”

“Just the once,” Sherlock murmurs, kissing John again. He leans back on the mattress, pulling John with him as he does in every aspect of life, and as John would never wish to change.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote a "prequel" of sorts after the fact [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4961941)!


End file.
